


Shot in Silence

by Blue_eyed_Crow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coran deserves better, Elements of Season 7, Galra Keith (Voltron), Inter-dimensional travel, Kuron is here, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Not a lot though, POV Alternating, Set after season 5, Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), The team's a bit of a jerk at first, They get better, a little bit of galra, but like not too bad, in the later chapters, journey of self-discovery, temporary deafness, temporary disability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_eyed_Crow/pseuds/Blue_eyed_Crow
Summary: Fighting an thousand year old space war came with the usual consequences. Victory, death. You know the standard. Sometimes though it's living with what didn't kill you that really beats you. Life isn't a Kelly Clarkson song.Or alternatively Lance suffers the consequences of war and struggles with losing his hearing and confidence.





	1. Into The Woods I March To Die

Lance read somewhere that listing facts would help ground someone through an anxiety attack. He didn’t have anxiety attacks, honestly they sound horrible, and he’s never seen one so he doesn’t know if they work or not. Lance could ask Hunk, but that’s probably rude. This is definitely not an anxiety attack, but it- whatever it is- isn’t nice makes him feel awful and scared and so he starts listing off things he knows. 

“I’m Lance Richard Sanchez-McClain, adopted son of a Scottish immigrant and seventh generation Cuban raised in both the United Commonwealth and the Cuban-Mexican republic.” Lance lists monotone. He feels kinda stupid. Maybe he should try focusing on facts to help cheer him up? 

“I used to be the Blue paladin but now I pilot Red, who’s pretty cool.” Lance rubs his fingers together like he’s sprinkling salt on an imaginary dish. “I miss my home which is you know sad, but I’ve seen many cool things. I used to have a crush on Allura. Though I’m pretty sure everyone had a crush on her. She’s amazing. Lotor sucks and despite all his ‘help’ he’s still the enemy.” Lance pauses wondering if many these aren’t exactly facts. He dismisses the thought. A soft knock draws Lance out of his thoughts.

“Lance?” Hunk, the lovable giant asks from outside Lance’s door. Gosh Lance loves that guy. “Me and Pidge, well Pidge and I are heading off to Olkarion for a dobosh-hour- or two. We’re taking Yellow and Green out for a bit. Just… wanted to let you know.” Hunk’s voice is quiet and laced with hesitation. For what Lance isn’t quite sure. Still he feels a little jealous at the fact Hunk’s going off without him. 

“Thanks Hunk. Now go and do your nerd stuff with that gremlin!” Lance fake-laughs and waits until he’s sure Hunk has moved on. 

“Okay. Um Keith’s AWOL with the Bom and honestly? I kinda miss the mullet. Don’t ever tell him that.” Lance stares at the fuzzy lion slippers he’s wearing. “Sometimes I feel really really useless and Mama always said to tell someone but-” Lance sighs. “Who am I going to tell now? I’ve talked to everyone already and it isn’t going away.” Lance stifles a bitter laugh. Maybe that’s why he needs to talk to himself. Cause he’s the last one to listen. Lance sighs and lays back down on his bed. A nap can’t hurt can it? Human version of turning it off and on again. Lance snorts at the thought letting himself drift. 

 

Turns out it can hurt. Emotionally. In the form of yelling. By the leader of Voltron (not Allura) and his hero. So yeah. Not the greatest moment. In fact one of his top 20, just above getting yelled at by Iverson. Which is one the lower side of the list. Being in space and almost dying every single frickin day will do that to a person (Lance). But hey at least he did miss out on the Space Fitnessgram Pacer Test from Hell. Which may or may not have been the reason he got yelled at. Unclear. So what did the great Shiro decide was an appropriate punishment for Lance? Scrubbing the Lion’s hangars top to bottom.  _ All of them.  _

“Stupid Shiro,” Lance mutters hands clutched on fricking scrub brush, knees deep in soap and hot water. He wipes the sweat off his brow and looks at the work he’s done. The whole foot. Lance sighs resting his forehead against the floor. He groans. 

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you’re trying to woo the floor,” a familiar chipper voice says from behind him. Lance whips up so fast the world spins. 

“Coran! Don’t do that you scared me,” Lance wheezes pressing his palm against his chest. The mustached Altean’s eyes twinkle. 

“Sorry M’boy, I just thought you could use some help.” The orange Altean produces a hose and Lance almost dies from happiness. He quickly takes the hose from the older man and twists the nozzle. Immediately high pressured water sprays from it, completely pushing the bucket and old fashioned brush. Lance laughs in joy. 

“Promise you won’t tell Shiro?” Lance asks twisting off the hose. Coran’s smile fades. 

“I promise you Lance. I won’t tell.” Coran rests his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on with Shiro.” He admits. “But fear not number three! I’m sure it’s just a mad-flapped cornsbill. They pass eventually. But on the off chance that it isn’t-” Coran trails off. Lance sighs. He knows, but they have a universe to restore to order and they don’t have time to deal with whatever’s up with Shiro. 

“Well lad I’ll leave you be. I’ll try and distract him for a bit. Enjoy Number Three!” Coran calls as he leaves. Lance smiles at Space Uncle and twists the hose on. 

“Bring. It. On.” 

 

Lance is cleaning Black’s hangar when Shiro finds him. Well, find- storms in, steam legit pouring out of his ears. That’s not healthy in the least. 

“LANCE,” he roars fist clenched at his side. Oh mama he takes back everything he ever said-he doesn’t want to die like this. Shiro stops before him, slamming his feet onto the floor. Lance twists the hose off. 

“Yesss?” He asks shooting for innocence. His voice cracks in the middle. Stupid puberty. It sucks. Shiro frowns deeper at his word and snatches the hose from Lance’s hands. 

“Redo all of Black’s hangar, and then clean the cryo pods every day for the next week.” Shiro’s hands move to his hips in a very parent-like fashion which would be amusing except for-

“ _ A WEEK?!”  _ Thank you mouth, Lance thinks. But he wholeheartedly agrees. A week? A  _ WEEK!  _ Outrageous, unthinkable, unwarranted!

“Yes. And this time you will do it the right way Lance.” Shiro shakes the hose to emphasize his point. Yikes. Shiro takes the hose and leaves. He pauses and turns back around. “Alright, two days. I know you’re trying. But try harder- we can’t afford any slacking.” Shiro walks out leaving Lance without a brush and no way to actually clean Black’s hangar. He feels the characteristic wetness well up in his eyes. Now he knows crying isn’t shameful but- Lance shakes his head. He looks up at the lion. 

“Quiznak. Quiznak it all.” Then Lance squares his shoulders and goes to work. Mama didn’t raise no coward. Well at least not a very big one. A small coward. That...doesn’t sound quite right. Whatever. He has a hangar to clean and no time to dramatically narrate his life. A brush ascends from the floor like a small cleaning Jesus. 

“Sorry Mama,” he says aloud, but picks up the brush nevertheless getting on his hands and knees pushing the brush into the floor and dragging it back towards him. Away. Towards. Away. Back and forth. Dull and repetitive until everything is done. 

 

Cleaning cryopods is horrible, extremely horrible. Lance hates every second of it. Every. single. flipping. Minute. Lance reflects on this extreme injustice as he storms into the ‘spoopy-cool-paladude-chillin’-max-grillin’ room ™ . He tosses the bucket and brush aside (seriously why do they even have them?) and catapults head first onto the space couch. He groans into the warm legs he just threw himself on. Probably Hunk. Hunk loves to chill in the ‘spoopy-cool-paladude-chillin’-max-grillin’ room ™ . He pushes his face deeper into the toned flesh and howly quiznak has Hunk been working out lately? These thighs could probably break his neck in two seconds flat. That’s hot. He can feel vibrations through the thighs, his ears pressed against them in such a way he can’t hear anything. Kinky. 

“Mmm stop it Hunk,” he groans but since he’s in too deep (ha) it sound like a long drawn out muffled groan. Something heavy, a hand, starts rubbing his head. Holy quiznak that feels ah-maze-ing. If Lance could purr he would. Lance has died and gone to comfy heaven. Hunk’s claws scrap against his scalp in the very best way. 

Wait… 

_ Claws?  _

Quiznak. 

 

Lance jolts up, arms braced at his sides, eyes like pizza pies. (That’s amore *cough*) A large furry, familiar looking galra blinks back at him. Seriously where has he seen her before…

“This is cute,” she says grabbing Lance by his shoulders lifting him up. Holy crow. That’s hot but at the same time he’s completely mortified. Frozen in a mix of utter humiliation and complete fear because  _ holy quiznak he just laid on a huge mcfreaking GALRA!!  _ Lance closes his eyes. 

“Keith is this yours?” The huge (well huge to him) Galra asks and Lance perks up immediately. He knows Keith! Keith his buddy! Or ex-rival? Whatever it’s complicated. But in that moment Lance didn’t care, only for Keith to save him. A sputtering noise off to his left- must be Keith. 

“YES! KEITH YES!” He shouts trying to turn towards Keith but the Galra has his shoulders and neck in an immovable grip. Now that he’s thinking of Keith the Galra’s horrible hairdo does look familiar….

KEITH GALRA GIRL! 

Holy crow it’s Mama Quiche, and he just buried his face into her thighs. To be fair though they were great thighs. He wonders if it’s genetic...Focus Lancey Lance! Keith makes another noise, and his mama laughs and tosses (tosses!) Lance towards the noise. Lance squawks, arms failing trying to catch himself. Luckily, someone else catches him before he hits the floor. Keith, his mind helpfully supplies as he tilts his head back. Purple alien eyes blink back at him set in a burning face. Great. Glad to know this isn’t just him. 

“Uh hi keith?” Lance didn’t mean for it to come out as a question but it did. Mama Keef chuckles in the background. 

“I’ll let you two be. Use protection,” Mama Mullet says standing up. “I’ll be with the Princess.” She strides out of the room with a too wide smirk. Her words sink in and Lance freezes with a squeak. Keith pushes him out of his arms. Lance hits his head against the floor. He moans in pain finally released from his stupor. 

“Mullet,” he gripes a frown settling on his features. He’s really to revive the old rivalry. However when he looks up, he just… can’t stay mad at the embarrassment settling on Keith’s features hidden poorly by a pout. “It’s- good to see you.” Lance mutters looking at the floor. “Your mom seems nice.” Keith sputters. It’s actually pretty-nope. Not going there. 

“How’d you know?” he asks suspiciously. 

_ I don’t know- maybe the fact that you both have terrible tastes in haircuts, that you both have purple eyes,  _ Lance thinks. But like a good child (debatable) he keeps that silent. Instead he scoffs. 

“Really? It’s like Mama and Baby Mullet.” Oh-kay. Not what he wanted to say at all. Good going brain. Really did your job. Keith’s brow furrows. Which can mean a couple of things. 1) He’s mad but he’s almost always mad so no biggie. 2) He’s confused. Which is also he usual mood so no biggie. 3) Someone told him to do something he didn’t like or 4) a mix of anger and confusion that makes up Keith’s entire emotional range. Probably number four. 

“...What?” Keith asks reaching up to touch his hair a scowl still on his face. Ah the wondrous number four it is. 

“Nevermind,” Lance says not up to explain the intricate workings of his mind to an alien. A legit alien. Half-alien but alien nonetheless! Where was he going with this he had a point.

Keith cocks his head at him curiously as if he said something strange. “I know you’re quoting something but I can’t remember what.” What. What...was he quoting. Oh my goodness, he turned into one of  _ those.  _ He needs a Disney intervention quick! Someone hold him down and inject the movies straight into his veins. Keith crinkles his nose. 

“I don’t think you meant to say that aloud,” He says turning. “...It’s been good Lance.” then Keith is out of the room like he has super speed or something. The Super Mullet… Nah. Maybe while he’s alone he can work on not saying his thoughts aloud. 

“You’re not alone,” a small impish voice whispers next to his ear. He definitely doesn’t scream loudly and high-pitched. Definitely. No matter what Pidge might say- she’s a gremlin so you can’t trust her. 

 

Lance retreats into his room until dinner. Where the princess officially introduces Krolia-Mama Quiche as she will forever hence be known as- and informs the paladins that they plan to stay for just a short while. Which you know is fine and dandy for them. Lance isn’t bitter. (well…) He’s most definitely not jealous either- why would he be jealous? Of course he isn’t!

“Aww man, it sucks to have you here for such a short time,” Hunk says voice genuine. Yes! Exactly Bravo Hunk! “It’d be nice to have a swordsman on the team again!” He cheerfully adds and…. It doesn’t make Lance bad per say but it doesn’t make him feel too good either. Afterall Lance did unlock a new bayard form-just… he hasn’t used it yet? Don’t look at him like that- it feels weird to be the samurai when someone else already has that title. 

“Ditto with the Hunk,” Pidge chirps in. “I’d love a new test subject- Lance is a little too gangly for some of the better ones.” She adjusts her glasses letting them flash like an evil genius. Lance squawks but he doesn’t protest. As much as he loves her- like the little sister he never had- he does not ever  _ ever  _ want to be the victim of another science project. Keith chuckles low and deep. 

“I’ll help you Pidge,” He says a small grin on his face. “Just no humiliating stuff alright?” Pidge nods eagerly. Oh poor, poor Quiche. He’s going to die. 

 

Lance is shocked to find Keith alive and mostly well the next morning. Honestly, to-god shocked. Keith turns to him holding a plate of goo wincing. 

“Lance,” he greets softly a strange expression on his face. Lance blinks confused. Could this be a new emotion? Keith-feeling more than two emotions? What diabolical thing did Pidge do to the ex-Red paladin. Black/Red paladin. Wine paladin. No that’s Shiro. 

“I’m fine-Pidge just tested out a new taser. Question is-are you okay?” Keith asks. Is that concern? Tears prick at the corner of Lance’s eyes which makes Keith even more concerned, reaching out with one hand before stopping. He’s so awkward but Lance takes pity on him. 

“Oh quiche! I’m soo proud,” Lance says flinging himself around Keith. The dark red paladin tenses. Lance pulls back to look him in the eye. He wipes his eyes. “You’ve finally learned more than two emotions.” Keith frowns and punches him in the ribs. 

“Jerk,” Keith pouts putting down his goo bowl in the sink. Keith limps out of the kitchen a scowl on his face. 

“Wait!” Lance calls out. Keith stops at the door frame, suspicion etched between those alien eyes. “I am...Just say you’re allergic to peanuts if Pidge tries to give any food to you. Trust me,” Lance says eyes dropping to rest on Keith’s shoes. 

“....I’ll keep that in mind, Lance,” Keith says. “Thanks.” With that Keith’s gone, limping to the training deck. Like an idiot. Lance sighs and places a water pouch in the freezer. For later. He closes the door and rests his head against the frame. 

“My son is lucky to have you as mate Blue paladin,” A voice says from behind. Lance shrieks spinning and falling back. Krolia looks at him from the couch, blinking her slightly yellow eyes every now and again. 

Wait. Hold up a minute. Back up. Beep. Beep.

Did she say  _ mate _ ?!! As in like dogs, and birds, and crap.

“I ain’t nobody’s mate,” Lance sputters face scrunching. Krolia blinks. 

“You humans,” she sighs. “So dumb.” She turns back around sipping on a water pouch. Lance places his hands on his hips like some white rich girl and-

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Inner white girl back at it again.  _ Don’tsnap don’tsnap don’tsnap.  _ Lance snaps his fingers staring at the hot alien.  _ Dammit.  _

Krolia blinks and raises her eyebrows. “I’m just saying you humans are so, how’d he say it, are goddamn oblivious when it comes to love.” She takes a sip. “My son included.” Lance stares at this crazy alien in disbelief. Alarms blare jolting Lance out of-whatever he was doing. 

“All Paladins please report to your lions, the castle is under attack!” The princess’ posh voice calls out over the intercoms. Lance grunts speeding off. He’ll deal with this crazy alien latter and her weird sayings. 

 

Lance sits in Red, clutching the controls of the finicky lion. Red growls at being called finicky, mental fur shooting up in displeasure. The very definition of finicky. 

“Sorry boy,” Lance chuckles. “But I call them like I see them.” Red growls again clearly displeased. Through their tentative connection a brief image of Keith flashes across his mind with smugness. Not to Keith. Or is it Red saying he likes Keith better? Lance scowls mood dropping. Red pays it no mind, behaving like the spoiled brat he is. 

“Whatever,” Lance mutters pushing the lion into space. Red offers no help or guidance. Simply exists as a disgruntled presence at the edge of his mind. Lance sighs, wishing he was in Blue. 

_ ‘Lance nice of you to show up!’ _ Pidge quips over the intercom voice huffing in concentration as she attacks small galra cruisers. Lance takes a quick look around and notices everyone already engaged in battle. Lance shakes his head and pushes Red forward shooting at the ships that get in his way. The voices of his comrades overlap over the intercom, their emotions pulsing across their bond. Lance’s connection is as weak with them as it is with Red. Like he stands across a lake from them, the only connection is a stubborn boat who refuses to let him on.

_ ‘Lance watch out!’  _ Hunk calls snapping Lance out of his- actually he doesn’t know what that was. Red laughs at him. Lance twists to the side avoiding an oncoming laser. It clips Red’s flank and sends him spinning into space. Lance jostles around in the cockpit, lurching forward against the control panel. Red offers no help to keep him alright and a sharp corner jabs into his forehead. 

_ ‘Lance!’  _ Voices call. Lance isn’t sure who. He’s...dizzy. He’s never been dizzy before. Something warm trickles down his forward. When he shakes his head it gets worse.

“C’mon,” Lance groans slowly maneuvering the lion back around.  “I’m fine guys.”

_ ‘Let’s form Voltron!’  _ Shiro yells over the intercom. Lance nods even though no one can see him and gets in position. Forming Voltron usually means an absolute connection, everyone can feel everything but Red… That just doesn’t happen with Red. He’s still on the other side of that lake. They yell. They take down the threat. They break up. And Lance’s still on the other side of that damn lake. 

“Paladins! I’m receiving emergency signals from a nearby planet. It doesn’t look like the Galra are there but they’re claiming they’ve captured a Galran Officer from the Fire of Purification.” Coran says his face popping up on a screen. 

_ ‘Understood. Pidge-’  _ Shiro begins. 

_ ‘Lance should go he’s the fastest,”  _ Hunk says cutting Shiro off. Lance smirks at his best bud.  _ ‘Besides it should be nothing. Get in, see what’s up and leave. Even Lance can do that.’  _ Good feeling gone. 

_ ‘I agree. I have some updates I want to install on Green. Lance’ll be fine.’  _ Pidge adds on a bored tone in her voice. Lance huffs but puts on a cheery face. 

“Of course I can do it, you’re looking at the Great Lance slayer of the Galra,” He grins. Pidge starts to laugh. 

_ ‘Heh. I guess you’re right. Even Lance can’t mess this up.’  _ says Shiro. Oof that hurts. 

“Just you watch, I’ll be in and out before you know it!” Lance fake-cheers. 

_ ‘Whatever loser,’  _ Pidge moves back to the castle. Lance urges Red forward towards the planet. It’s green and not much to look at honestly. Quickly Lance breaches the atmosphere, his team gone back to the castle. 

“Kay Lanceylance, just in and out. Simple.” Lance mutters to himself, landing gently in a small clearing. Fog hangs heavy over the land, clinging to everything it set it tendrils upon. Pale blue lights flick dully in the clouds casting eerie light over little area is seen. Soft warbles fill the air, soft black flora hoover high in the air- pinetree like. 

“If I had a galran general where would I keep him.” Lance mutters quietly. He shrugs giving up. Lance presses a button on his control panel. “Coran, did the locals say where they were?” 

“Locals---------forest----map--now.” Coran’s voice goes in and out, making it unintelligible. A map pops up in his helmet showing where he is and where he should go. 

“Thanks Coran,” He says hoping out of his chair and escaping from the lion. He steps into the forest, bayard loose in his grip. It’s not the most pleasant walk, there’s something creepy about this place. 

The map of where he’s going glitches. He frowns smacking his helmet. The helmet stops, growing dark. Something shuffles in the foliage. Lance whips around shifting his bayard, and wildly pointing where the noise was. Nothing. The fog creeps silently past his ankles. A low rumbling growl slices the air behind him. Lance breath shakily as he turns around. The air in his helmet tastes stale and sour. The fog blocks his view. The growl stops, and something dark shifts. Lance pulls the trigger. A short burst of blue light rips from the head into the fog. The end of the barrel sparks. The creature whimpers and scuffles around. Lance whips the gun hunting for the creature. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and goosebumps run over his arms. He shivers. Behind him, close behind him, he hears a deeper growl. Slowly he turns around. Visions of yellow teeth dancing in his memory. There is nothing behind him. Lance clicks on his coms. 

“CORAN I-” nothing but static greets him. Oh no.  A hot breath soaks into his exposed undersuit. He yells firing the gun as he turns. The barrel explodes, blue light filling the space in front of him. Lance makes eye contact with billant green eyes as he blown back. Lance lays dazed, his vision swarming, black spots and a dull ache in his hands. His ears ring with a vengeance. Dark shapes to his right, claws and blades. Lance’ eyes start to drop the blackness creeping in. Violent eyes eclipse his view as he’s yanked up. At least he thinks they’re violet. One is glowing a little. He wants them to be violet, so that’s what they are. Lank croaks, “Keith?” and he’s gone. 


	2. Leave Me in Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge deals with emotions, Lance deals with suffering, and Allura is trying to be a good leader. Kinda.

 

“It's been too long we have to go after him!” Hunk worries, stopping his pacing long enough to address the others. Pidge looks up from her setup long enough to glare at Hunk. Shiro rubs his forehead with his prosthetic as Allura pats his back. Coran is gone- vanished with the wind. 

“Calm down Hunk. It’s only been two hours.” Hunk flings his arms towards the ceiling. 

“An hour too long! He should’ve been out of the fog by now! It isn’t like him.” 

Shiro sighs, “If he doesn’t contact us soon we’ll go after him okay?” Hunk bites his lip, frustration written plainly on his face but accepts it and returns to his pacing anyway. 

  
  


Warm liquid trickles onto Lance’s lips and into his mouth. He pushes it back out with a groan, spit bubbling on his lower lips. A cloth wipes it away. It roughly brushes his sensitive skin, like a mother cleaning her child. His head pounds like a drum. A wet cloth presses itself on his right ear, wiping up and down, up and down. The sharp scent of oranges spread. Lance cracks open one and immediately regrets it. Nausea writhes in his stomach, and his last meal threatens to make itself known again. A pale hand cover his eyes, and the world darkens again. The person (?) alien (?) moves onto his other ear. Lance tries to speak but the words don’t leave him. He feels his throat move but no sound comes out. The hand on his eyes strokes his hair. Lance opens his eyes again, just one this time, blinking often. Gradually, the world stops spinning and he isn’t in immediate danger of losing his lunch. He opens the other. He slowly takes stock of his environment. The tan ceiling of what appears to be a tent. Soft, gray blankets cover him. A black tarp thing is spread underneath him. A brown bag sits to his right. The hand stop wiping his ears, and the alien it belongs to leans forward into Lance’s vision. Familiar black locks fall, framing soft violet eyes. 

“Keith,” Lance tries to say reaching for his teammate. A soft smile crinkles Keith’s face. He opens his mouth but Lance can’t hear the words. His own eyes widen as panic burrows in his cheeks. He can’t hear him. “Keith.” He sobs unable to hear the words. Through watery eyes Lance watches Keith’s face crumple in sadness, and then flickers. Lance can only glimpse the jagged scars overlapping his eyes, blue and yellow eyes, before they're gone. Gone so fast Lance isn’t sure if he saw them at all. Keith’s hands cover his ears. Lance’s chest rises and falls rapidly. He can’t breathe. Keith swarms in his sight, and disappears consumed by darkness. His concerned face mouthing something is the last thing he sees before he faints. 

 

Lance wakes to a worse headache and cottonmouth. He sees a figure huddle over a fire. Lance frowns trying to figure out who it is. The figure turns and Lance smiles. Keith's moves from the fire holding a bowl. He sets it near Lance and picks up the spoon. He gently blows on it and brings it to Lance’s mouth. Lance opens his mouth and eats. Keith constantly feeding him until the bowl is empty. Then Keith eats his own. Lance stretches his headache fading to a dull buzz. A gentle tap alerts him to Keith. He holds a piece of paper. Words inked boldly and thickly on the tops. ‘Lance.’ it reads. ‘ You were in an explosion. You’re okay, but your ears need to heal for a bit.’ Lance reaches up and feels the soft gauze. He bites his lip and nods. 

‘Keith,’ He says feeling the word roll off his tongue, vibrating in his throat. Keith smiles softly his eyes flitting to the floor. He takes the paper and writes on it. Lance watches as the words bloom on the page. ‘Would you lay down please?’ Lance throws a questioning glance but does as he asks. Lance starts to say something but falters. A wave of insecurity washes over him, Keith brushes his fingers over his cheek grounding. 

‘Lance,’ he mouths slowly to let Lance read it. ‘Lance.’ he repeats faster. Lance watches carefully, still insecure about his voice. Keith grabs Lance’s hands and brings them to his lips, kissing them softly. Lance blushes, curling his fingers involuntarily. Keith drops his hands, curling one of them in Lance’s hair. It feels unexpectedly...nice. Lance closes his eyes, and his chest rumbles. A soft pressure pushes on his stomach and rubs. Lance lets out a noise of surprise, eyes immediately opening. Keith rubs circles on his stomach and in his hair like a cat. Lance’s confusion melts into contentment. Oh my god he’s a cat. Honestly he couldn’t care less though. He closes his eyes again and drowsiness sets in. Sleep takes him. 

  
  


Pidge works her fingers together and worry lines her face. Hunk fiddles with his bayard. Shiro emerges from the black lion’s hangar, helmet under his arm. He looks at the hopeful paladins and shakes his head. They deflate. Hunk clenches his fists tightly, and Pidge follows suit. 

“He can’t be missing!” she shouts. She steels herself, determination narrowing her eyes. “If you want something done right...” She strides from the room ignoring the startled eyes that follow her. 

  
  


Lance awakens to a brilliant green sky and soft yellow trees. He blinks his eyes something hot pressing into the back of his neck. Strange pins pressing into his limbs.His throat vibrates, unheard noise slipping past his lips. He can’t move. He closes his eyes tears falling freely. His chest contracts and stutters as he heaves shallow breaths. His limbs hang uselessly at his sides. He has to move- he just can’t. Please. Please help. He squeezes his eyes harder hoping for something. Anything.  The ground vibrates and Lance flings open his eyes. A blue blur flies overhead. Lance closes his eyes for a second, the light too bright. Something strong picks him up. Lance opens his eyes, blurry shapes moving in his vision. Red, yellow, pink. Lance closes his eyes again. It’s too much work to keep them open. Someone holds him. Someone strong, and warm. 

  
  


Pidge stills, her ears piqued as she hears quiet cries reverberate through the yellow trees. Her heart leaps into her throat.  _ Lance.  _ She runs, her bayard forming in her grip following the sounds. She falters as she sees the familiar blue figure sprawled on the roots of a “tree”. Tears run down his face, and a white bandage wraps around his head. She runs her eyes over the rest of his form noting the absence of his helmet, breastplate, and bayard. 

“Oh Lance,” she sadly exclaims clipping her bayard  on her side. Lance doesn’t seem to hear her. She drops to his side. She rests a hand on his shoulder. His head jerks, shudders running through his muscles. His eyes fly open and focus on her own. 

“Pidge,” he hums his words slurring a bit. His eyes widen. “Pidge!” he cries panic coloring his tone. “Pidge!” Pidge cups his face.

“Lance! What’s wrong?!” She asks finger fluttering over his cheeks. He stares intently at her lips frustration and panic all over his face. 

“Ears,” he cries not moving. Pidge’s attention drifts to his covered ears. Her fingers brush the soft material and bury into his hair. Immediately he closes his eyes and  _ purrs. _ Startled Pidge yanks back her hand. Lance gazes up at her confused and panicked. Hesitantly she places it back and his eyes close once more. Despite the situation she giggles. 

“You are a cat,” she whispers still stroking his head. Pidge gathers Lance in her arms, the boy worryingly limp. Lance’s head rolls on her shoulder, his face scrunched in pain. She runs jolting Lance with every step. He whimpers each time, tears beginning to fall again. Pidge words vomits soft nothings to calm him down, but it does nothing. Pidge bursts from the fog, her lion in sight. “GUYS! LANCE IS HURT!” She screams into her comms, her words only meeting silence. She lets out a stream of curses as she tries to flick on the comms. Hunk’s worried rambling greets her and she almost melts in relief. “HUNK!” Immediately he goes silent. “WE NEED A HEALING POD NOW!” Her lion lower down its ramp and Pidge runs inside. 

“Pidge what’s wrong?!” Hunk questions as Pidge lays Lance down on the floor of her lion. 

“I’m not sure Hunk. He-he is in pain,” A thought occurs to her. She gasps. “His helmet! Hunk he wasn’t wearing his helmet!” Hunk gasps as Pidge sits in her lion quickly starting it. She pushes forward, quickly pulling up information her lion gathered about the atmosphere. She reads over it and pilots at the same time. 

 

Hunk, to his credit, at least waits until she’s landed before running into her lion. He scoops up Lance, who has been worryingly quiet the entire ride. He hurries out without a word, and Pidge follows as fast as she is able. She heads straight to the Medbay, entering in time for Hunk to place Lance into a Cryopod. The familiar blue liquid freezes him. Both paladins sigh in relief. They hover around as Cornan suddenly appears and reads off the information on the cryopod, lots of murmuring. Shiro and Allura arrive together frustration and concern lining their faces. 

“Coran what’s wrong?” Allura asks placing a hand on the older Altean’s shoulder. Coran looks down at Allura his face tight. 

“Lance has been exposed to the planets air, however the pod cannot detect any trace of the poison in his system despite the scans both the castle and Green Lion did.” He stops stroking his mustache deep in thought. “Unless…” he trails off poking at some things. Allura sighs.

“Coran, his injuries?” She prompts. 

“Right princess! He has burns all over his hands and arms, still fresh. There appears to be small pieces of shrapnel littered throughout his body. Nothing extremely major. However it seems that Lance here can taken quite the extensive blast to his ears- his innermost ear is completely destroyed-” Coran pauses lifting up comparison screens of before and right now- “As seen by this scan. It should be several quintants at the very least in the cryopod.” Coran finishes stroking his mustache. Pidge’s brow furrows.

“Is that all? He seemed in so much pain...Are you sure there’s nothing else?” Pidge asks wringing her hands. Coran stares at the pod, and then shakes his head. 

“Nothing number five. Nothing at all.” He says staring at the pod and the data on it. Coran looks up at the sleeping boy’s face. 

  
  


Lance is cold, so very cold. He can’t move. He can’t move. He’s falling, falling into something warm, and firm. And home. He’s home. Something soft pets his head. Lance opens one eye, and orange floods his sight. A familiar orange. He frowns trying to place who it is. The man’s face swarms into focus. He grins, memories setting in. 

“Coran.” He tries to say. Nothing comes out. Coran’s eyes sparkle with tears and he carries Lance over to the infirmary, onto a table, thrusting a device into his hands. ‘Lance my boy, it seems that the healing pod rejected you. You weren’t supposed to come out for a few quitants at the very least.’ Lance looks up at Coran confused. 

"How long did was it?" he asks hoping he’s saying the correct thing. Coran takes the tablet and scribbles ferociously on it. When he hands it back it takes a couple tics for the translation software to do its job. ‘15 vargas. As you can see it didn’t repair your ears all the way.’ Lance reaches a tentative hand up to his ears. The gauze is gone. 

"Why not?" Why didn’t the healing pods work for him? Why didn’t they help him.  Coran sits beside him and fiddles the screen of the tablet. Suddenly the words, his words, blossom on the screen of their own accord. 

"You remember when you took the explosion for me?" Coran asks the words appearing slowly on the screen. Lance nods unsure where this is going.

"A crystal, no bigger than my pinkie, fused right here," Coran places his thumb at the base of Lance’s neck and pushes. He yelps diving forward to escape the burn. His eyes water as he shoots Coran an angry look. He quickly looks away as Coran begins speaking again. 

"It fused onto your spine, and the healing pod used it to replace your bone. Now that you’ve used the pod again it’s been activated." Lance frowns rubbing his head. Activated?

"The crystal," Coran traces the base of his neck where the crystal would be, "was designed to store energy. It will start to store yours and expel it randomly." Lance still doesn’t know what that means. 

"It means, basically, that the electricity from your brain to tell your body to do things will be absorbed by the crystal rendering you immobile and it will randomly release this energy and cause you to be unable to control yourself." That Lance gets. He got an A in biology, he knows what that means. Lance drops his head against the tablet with a groan. 

"Why is this happening now Coran? Why me?" Lance sniffs, tears forming in his eyes. Coran simply wraps his arms around the sobbing boy, gently holding him. 

Sobs wrack his thin frame, trembling against the warmth of Coran’s body. He’s cold, and tired, and confused. He hiccups as he tears start to slow down. A numb feeling has settled in his chest as his eyes flutter shut and his brain starts to slow. A thick blanket of exhaustion settles on his body and mind. Lance swears, as he’s drifting off to sleep, he can hear Coran murmur a quiet goodnight. 

 

Coran lays Lance’s sleeping form on an infirmary table attaching wires and cords to monitor his condition. When he deems Lance stable enough he opens the castle intercom. 

“Paladins to the infirmary room, Paladins to the infirmary room.” With a click he turns it off opting not to try and explain more. It’ll be easier if they see in person.    

Pidge is surprisingly the first to arrive but the others are not far behind. 

“Coran what’s…” Allura trails off when she sees the sleeping form of Lance outside the healing pods. She turns her questioning gaze to Coran. Pidge and Hunk hurry to Lance’s side. Tears well in Hunk’s eyes.  

“It seems Lance’s first stay inside the healing pod was… inadequate to say least.” Coran says moving closer to the blue paladin. He frowns in his sleep, tilting his head to the side. He looks pained. 

“Coran whatever do you mean” Allura says frustration present in her voice. 

“Lance was spit out before the healing pod could finish its job and this activated the pod’s N.I.L.L. coding.”  Coran pauses and when he notices the dumbstruck faces of the paladins he continues. “Thus only life-threatening injuries will be tried by the pods.” Allura gasps covering her mouth with her hand. 

“I’m sure Lance would like to be awake when we get into the details of his injuries,” Coran says looking at the pained face of the sleeping boy. Hunk takes Lance’s hand in his own sitting at the edge of the bed. Pidge curls up on the floor. Shiro and Allura choose to leave promising to come back as soon as he awakens. 

 

When Lance wakes from his sleep, it isn’t gently. It’s too bright, too uncomfortable, too everything. He groans, sitting upright. IVs on his arm tug against the blanket draped on top of him painfully. He hisses and immediately a blurred yellow figure latches onto him, squeezing hard. A green figure follows latching on. 

“Guys...can’t breath!” He says tapping on Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk pulls back tears flowing freely as he blubbers freely. Pidge isn’t much better, clutching his shoulder like a maniac. Lance grabs the tablet gifted by Coran and taps it so he can read what they’re saying to him. A bunch of random letters floods the scream tells him both are just making noises. He laughs. “Guys calm down! I’m okay,” intelligible words finally appearing on the screen. He looks up in time to see Hunk’s frown. 

"Are you okay?" He asks Lance who hurries and looks down at the tablet. Lance shrugs searching for Coran. Pidge pokes him harshly in the arm and he glares at her. She opens her mouth to say something and he looks at his tablet again. Pidge said something earlier. ‘Yeah why is that?’

“Hey don’t ignore me,” it now reads. Someone else words flood the screen and Lance fights trying to see who it is. It’s hard enough trying to read and watch them at the same time. Coran pops up with Shiro and Allura by his side. Their mouths move and words flood his screen. 

"What’s wrong with him?" Someone asks. Lance isn’t sure who says it but it’s rude first of all. 

“Lance appears to suffer from intensive cryosyndrome.” Lance assumes Coran is speaking. Lance clicks on the words cryosyndrome and is surprised when they change color from blue to green. He clicks on it until they’re orange.

“Intensive what now?” That must be Pidge. He risks a glance and finds he is correct. Her words appear in the same blue as before. He clicks on it until it’s green.

“Cryosyndrome.” Orange blossoms on his screen. Lance looks up to see Coran twirling his mustache and explaining something. His free hand waves to the side. Since he isn’t looking at his tablet he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He looks back down. “It means that he’s still suffering the aftereffects of the cryopods and as such the computer rejects him for any injury save it be life-threatening.” 

“I’m sure Intensive Cryosyndrome isn’t a thing,” Someone says. The conversation is too fast paced for him to try and figure it out. 

“Well not yet. Lance here is the first,” He feels their eyes on him before he finishes reading the orange words.

“Lance?” The question startles him into looking upright. His teammates’ worried gaze is upon him. He can feel his face heat up, and he offers a weak smile. He watches as Shiro begins talking, eyes flickering the screen. 

“What’s wrong with him? Why doesn’t he say anything?” Shiro asks and Lance flinches as he reads those words. Lance rubs his fingers over the back of tablet. It’s not that he can’t talk it’s just hard to know when to talk, the pace of the conversation ahead of him. He’s never been the fastest reader. 

“He can talk,” Coran helpfully supplies. He doesn’t continue to clear anything up, a clear invitation for Lance to speak up himself. 

“Then why doesn’t he?” Pidge asks, but Lance can almost hear (ha) the growl in her words. Hunk lays a hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance puts a hand on top of it. He looks at the tablet and sees no new words and glances up at a Coran who nods encouragingly.

“Kinda hard to talk when nobody stops talking,” He stares a Pidge who snorts. 

“Never stopped you before,” She responds, and Lance looks away to read her words. 

“Well I could hear before,” Lance looks up indignant. All they do is talk in circles. Confusing, confusing circles.  The shocked faces of his teammates was not what he was expecting to see. Didn’t Coran tell them already? What was he waiting for?

Hunk scoops him up, tears already pouring down his face. Lance accepts the hug, and feels tears forming in his own eyes.  Pidge quickly follows suit. Lance lifts the tablet to try and understand what they’re doing. Random letters flick over the screen, blue and green. He changes the blue to yellow. 

“Oh Lonce,” the screen reads and yep it says lonce. He changes that one to pink because of course that has to be Allura. Surprisingly she also joins the hug, now he can’t hear and can’t read the tablet.  

“Guys I get it. You love me. Please let me go.” He says squirming in their grasp. Suddenly he’s let go and he’s free! He sits back down and stares into the faces of his teammates and feels emotionally exhausted. The worry for him is palpable.   

“Great. He’s deaf, the healing pods refuse to work for him. Anything else we should know?” The tablet doesn’t convey emotion, but the green words just scream frustration.

“Well-”

“Nothing! It’s nothing,” he interrupts. His teammates glare at him. 

“Hmm doesn’t sound like nothing. Especially since you’re so quick to refuse.” Pidge huffs (Lance hopes he’s getting these right). Lance fidgets hating the eyes on him when he can’t control what they’re thinking. 

“There’s nothing that you can do,” Lance dismisses it with a careless wave of his hand. He stares at his screen, waiting for words to pop up. Nothing. Unnerved Lance risks a glance up just as Hunk wraps his strong arms around him again. He’s joined by a smaller pair. Lance allows himself to chuckle feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He’s still tired but it’s a good tired. All these hugs and tears are really getting to him. Oh he feels more welling in his eyes. He sniffs away his tears. More arms wrap around him and he buries his head into someone’s shoulder. It’s nice. He doesn’t want to lose this. 

“I’ll try,” he promises. He isn’t sure they understand his promise but they don’t have to. Someone pats his back, probably Hunk. Hunk understands. Lance closes his eyes letting himself melt into the hug, something vibrates against him. Probably someone’s talking. He just can’t find it in himself to care right now. He’s so comfy. 

  
  


The morning doesn’t go at all how Pidge expected it to go. She certainly wasn’t expected to be told that Lance had awoken early and to meet in the infirmary. She didn’t expect to see him throughout the entire discussion diligently looking at his tablet looking so… weak. No not weak, helpless? No. Lance was a lot of things but he wasn’t helpless. Small. Yes, that’s the word. Usually Lance filled the room with his pick up lines, and personality, and his laughter. But not then. He just looked so small, and Pidge couldn’t keep the frown from erupting on her features. Then the confession that he couldn’t hear, he just looked so broken when he said it that it made Pidge’s heart hurt. She didn’t think it could’ve hurt anymore, but Lance just has to prove her wrong. The flirty boy wormed into her heart and stayed there like some kind of disease, acting like the brother she had lost. It hurt to see him like that. His own words hurt more. She couldn’t help hugging him, even if she wasn’t the one to initiate such things. It just felt right.  Pidge stared at Shiro over Lance’s head. 

“What do we do?” she asks but Shiro doesn’t have an answer. No one does. Lance is dead weight in her, and Hunk’s arms. A soft sigh escapes him. 

“Is he...asleep?” Allura asks from her position poking around Shiro. Pidge stifles a laugh. 

“I’ve got him,” Hunk says sweeping Lance into his arms. They walk out leaving Allura, Shiro, Coran and herself. Pidge suffers in the dark mood left between the four of them, something akin to telling a child your dog died. Or your boyfriend breaking up with you.. Boyfriend….

“We should contact Keith,” Pidge blurts out. Three pairs of eyes turn to look at her. Slowly Allura nods. 

“Good thinking Pidge. With Lance in his current state he’ll be unable to effectively pilot the red lion.” Allura strides towards what Pidge so loving dubbed the space ‘hub’ presumably to contact Keith. Pidge follows close behind, unsure about this plan. If she was put into Lance’s position she wouldn’t want to give up her lion- especially in such a vulnerable position. He’s probably feeling so useless. 

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” She asks leaving out the ‘Lance will be crushed’ that threatens to follow. Allura pulls up a  call screen, the buffering symbol circling in the middle. It’s nice to know that some things are universal. 

“I’m sure Lance will understand that this is for the best.” Allura folds her arms as her call goes through. ‘ _ That’s not what I meant. _ ’ she thinks as she stares at Kolivan’s passive face.

“Princess. What’s the emergency?” He asks shortly. Despite being such a tall guy he’s quite short. Pidge covers her mouth to keep herself from laughing at her own joke. 

“Please get Keith. Something… unfortunate has arisen,” her tone of authority does little to Kolivan as he raises an eyebrow, or brow, or whatever he has. Galra anatomy is weird okay? You don’t what the furries have and don’t have. 

“Currently  he’s on a mission and he won’t be back for a varga. I’ll have him contact you when he returns.” Kolivan cuts out and the screen goes black. Allura huffs pulling up the screen again.

“Princess-”

“No! Listen Kolivan we need to contact Keith! The blue paladin has been crucially injured and we need a pilot in order to form Voltron. I don’t care if he is on a mission. We are talking about Voltron, the hope of the universe.” Allura lectures, waving her hands slightly her face slightly pink. Kolivan stays silent for a tick or two. 

“I will contact him. But I’m not sure if he will respond.”

Allura sighs, “Thank you Kolivan,” and the connection is cut. Pidge hovers to the side already feeling bored. Her fingers twitch longing for something to do, hunting down her father or maybe even fighting the Galra. Thankfully it’s not long before Keith calls. He looks… horrible. Pale skin even more so than the last time she saw him. Dark purple bags under his eyes which are horribly bloodshot. His hair is an awful mess and at this point Pidge is worried. An explosions lights up the background causing his features to melt into shadows. Pidge sighs pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes. She’s too young for this. 

“What’s wrong with Lance?!” Keith demands equal parts anger, sadness and worry. He stops and looks down. 

“He’s been injured and we need you-” 

“To come back and pilot Red.” Keith finishes for Allura scoffing lightly. His brow is furrowed and his eyes flash yellow. Pidge blinks rapidly and the yellow tint to Keith’s eyes have disappeared like nothing was ever there. 

“I’m coming.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long guys. I really don't have an excuse but I'll make it up to you. There'll be another chapter really soon. 
> 
> Also Strong Pidge is my aesthetic.


	3. To Speak, Be Unheard Yet Listened To

It’s silent. That’s the first thing he notices. He’s calm for a moment, confused why he can’t hear anything. Then panic sets in. He  _ can’t  _ hear anything. His eyes flies open frantically looking around but not really registering anything. He sits up, scrambling backwards. His breath catches in his throat, choking on panic- 

Cool. Cool hands press against his cheeks grounding him. It also pisses him off to no end. Who do they think they are rudely putting their hands over his nice face clogging all his pores? 

Keith. 

Of course. Keith wouldn’t know the first thing about skincare. He’ll forgive him, but not before putting up a huge fuss about it. 

‘You’re clogging all my pores mullet.’ Lance says. It’s strange though. He doesn’t actually say it- but his throat moves. It’s disorientating to say the least. Keith smiles at him, his mouth moving too fast but no words actually come out.  _ Oh no. No.  _ Keith frowns stopping his rant looking at Lance strangely. 

‘Lance?’ It’s weird to see his name on Keith lips but not hear the words. Is it exasperated, or something else? Vague foggy memories of his mission float by- Keith telling him he’s injured, helping him. 

‘Thank you,’ Lance mutters. ‘For saving me out there. And for the soup.’ He bows his head unable to look at Keith. He doesn’t know if he’s pronouncing the words correctly. He could be slurring them horrendously.  

Or worse. 

Keith pushes Lance’s face up, hands rough and calloused against his cheeks but not unpleasant. 

‘What are you talking about?’ Keith mouths. Lance is pretty sure he also said hell but he mouthed it so fast Lance might just be projecting. 

‘In the forest. When you saved me?’ Lance tilts his head to the side, gazing quizzically at the man in front of him. Keith turns pressing a button next to him. Lance can’t read his lips but he’s positive he’s talking. Whatever. 

Lance gazes side to side looking around. Two pairs of IV comes out of his arm, and the bed is clean-hospital clean. The air smells vaguely of disinfectant, like Coran recently cleaned the room. The Med Bay, Lance realizes. Keith waves his hand in front of Lance’s face. Lance snaps back to Keith startled. 

‘Hey it’s okay Lance. It’s okay.’ Keith says slowly grasping his shoulders. Lance brushes him off. Yeah he’s a little scared about the whole “deaf” situation but..he trusts Keith. 

‘I know. You told me earlier.’ Lance offers a smile patting Keith’s face. Keith continues to look worried. The door swings open, a flurry of soundless movement, and draws Lance’s attention away from Keith. Hunk barrels into the room blubbering.He’s been doing that a lot lately. He stomps to Lance and wraps his arms around Lance. Pidge comes in followed by Coran. Shiro and Allura are nowhere to be seen. Pidge launches herself up and wraps her arms around Lance. He laughs, feeling vibrations come from his two friends and himself. It’s almost like purring. 

Hunk moves back dragging Pidge with him. He starts talking fast, before stopping and going slower enunciating his words. 

‘Lance you’re awake,’ Hunk mouths eyes flickering to the left before going back to Lance. Lance turns seeing Keith talking. 

‘-memory fish disks.’ Lance scrunches his nose hoping he read that wrong. Keith catches his eye flashes him a smile and stops talking. Ah-he wasn’t supposed to hear (see?) that. 

‘Yeah. I am.’ Lance replies to Hunk. He flicks between everyone not wanting to miss something. Pidge turns and says something to Keith. 

‘Don’t say anything.’ Keith says. 

‘What are you talking about? You know I can’t hear.’ Lance growls (hopefully) and Pidge has the decency to look a little guilty. 

‘Hair talks bout nothing.’ She mutters, face tilted downward. Lance blinks at her, wondering if it’s always going to be this awful at reading her lips. Pidge looks up, taken aback by his expression. 

‘Lance? Snow?’ Pidge totally sucks at mouthing things her mouth runs way too fast to be of literally any use. Lance narrows his eyes staring at her mouth. 

‘Say something again. I’m sure I can get it this time.’ 

‘Stupid.’ She says that one slowly, exaggerating her mouth so he knows without a doubt that’s what she said. Lance frowns. 

‘That’s cheating. I need to get this.’ Lance says gesturing at her. He makes the mistake of looking into her eyes so he misses the first part of her sentence. 

‘-wants to sandwich too.’ Lance covers his head. 

‘Pidge you suck at this.’ He moans. Someone gently tugs at his hands. Keith fills his vision, brows furrowed. Without thinking Lance reaches forward and smooths it. 

‘You’ll get wrinkles mullet.’ Lance offers a grin before settling back on his pillow. He can feel the exhaustion settling on his mind but his body is full of energy. Sabotage. 

‘Fight me,’ Keith says a smile curling on his soft pink lips. Stop it gay thoughts. Well bi thoughts technically. 

‘Don’t think you’d win Samurai just cause I can’t hear,’ Lance fires back, falling into the easy banter they have with each other. It’s grounding in an inexplicable way. 

Keith’s expression falters- a fraction of a second when his eyes are unguarded, and full of emotion. 

‘Wouldn’t think of it dreamer’ Keith tilts his head to the side, very obviously signaling that someone else is talking. Well as obvious as Keith can make it. Cuz he’s -you know- Keithy. Emotionally constipated. An idiot. Take your pick. 

‘First comes marriage~’ Pidge singsongs (or at least Lance imagines she does) before being physically silenced by Hunk. 

‘Lance are you hungry? Tired? Stupidly in love?’ Lance cocks his head to the side going through what Hunk said. He isn’t sure. Maybe Lance just really, really sucks at reading lips. Before Lance can say anything his stomach rumbles. It’s the weirdest feeling, not being about to hear it but still feel it. Hunk looks relieved at the noise. ‘Cool it. Be right back.’ Hunk leaves the room as soundlessly as he arrived. Pidge snaps her fingers in front of Lance’s face to draw his attention. Her eyes sparkle with excitement. 

‘Lance!’ She says before rambling off with excitement about something. It’s endearing in a weird way. He can’t follow her but it’d endearing nonetheless. It reminds him almost painfully of home, in a good way. Like he brought a tiny piece of home with him. Or found one at the very least.  

A soft hand rests on his cheek jolting him out of his reverie. His eyes snap open to meet Pidge’s concerned gaze. ‘Hey are you sleepy?’ Pidge asks mouth slow. Lance shakes his head. 

‘Just lost myself a bit Pidgeon. Don’t worry,’ Lance tries to reassure the worried green paladin. She doesn’t believe him. Her eyebrow quirks upwards her mouth is still downturned. Lance squishes her face between his hands with a growing smirk on his face. She smacks his hands away flipping him off. Lance chuckles. It’s strange to be happy and not hear it. The door flings open, slamming against the wall. People should really stop doing that. Just because he can’t hear, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about the structural integrity of the walls. Okay that’s a lie, but it’s startling when you see a noiseless flutter of movement out of the corner of your eyes. Like a silent horror movie. 

Hunk strides in holding a bowl of something steaming. Hunk grins making his way over to the blue paladin. 

‘Delicious nutritious,’ he says putting it down. Food goo. It’s food goo. Lance looks up glaring. ‘Food goo.’ Lance pushes it away. 

‘No.’ He says looking Hunk straight in the eyes. 

‘Yes.’ Hunk pushes it back. 

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘NO!’

‘Listen to me Lance Mcdonalds, you will eat this voodu or I will attach an eevee to your arm and date you.’ Hunk threatens his mouth going way too fast. Lance blinks at Hunk trying to decipher his words. Whatever it’s a threat he knows that much. Lance crosses his arms leaning back on his pillows. Keith picks up the bowl. 

‘C’mon Lance,’ He pleads doing the puppy eyes thing that Lance is weak for. No stop it you adorable galra kitten. Keith does an adorable nose scrunch lifting the spoon like a goddamn airplane moving it towards Lance. A quick glance at Pidge’s surprised face confirms that Keith is doing airplane noises. Maybe. Lance can only hope. 

Stuck in a situation with no clear winner Lance does the sensible thing. 

He eats the goddamn bowl of food goo. All of it. Spoon fed by Keith. In this instant Lance is grateful he can’t hear because he can’t hear the noise he  _ knows  _ Pidge and Hunk are making. Once done, with a glare at Hunk and Keith, Lance pushes the bowl away from him.

‘I ate the damn bowl,’ Lance pouts crossing his arms. Pidge does jazz hands in the background a deadpan expression on her face. 

‘Do you want some metal?’ Pidge sasses no longer worried. Lance flips her off, fighting a smile. For moments everything is normal, and Lance isn’t deaf. 

Of course the moment doesn’t last long. It never does in war. 

Red light flash all over the Med Bay and Pidge, Hunk, and Keith sit up straighter. Lance thinks it might be Allura calling them over the comms. All three stand, turning towards the door. Lance is hit with a rush of loneliness. He wants to go too. He doesn’t want to be left behind. 

Keith turns in the doorway and mouths something too quick for Lance to catch. The mullet runs away before Lance can ask him what he meant. Just like that Lance is all alone. 

Lance takes his pillow and screams into the surface. He can’t hear it anyway and there’s no one else around but it’s habit at this point. Screaming doesn’t make him feel that much better. It’s too weird to only feel it and not hear it at all. The contrast only makes the bubble of anxiety even bigger. Lance hits the bed trying to work out his frustrations and anxiety. He stares at the ceiling of his room, boredom already settling in. 

How long since the trio left? It couldn’t be that long mere minutes. Though anything can happen in a few minutes. You could die in a few minutes. No they’re not dead,  _ oh my god what if they are?  _

Lance groans smacking his head on the pillow. He’s just laying here so useless! He wishes he could go and help, but what use would they need for someone who can’t hear the orders? God he’s just so useless, can’t even fight now. Red will go back to Keith, and since they won’t need him anymore he’ll…

He’ll…

Lance isn’t sure what he’ll do. This is his home away from home. This is where his friends are. No where his family is. Tears well up in his eyes. He doesn’t want to leave! He’ll do anything, he just doesn’t want to leave! 

Lance can feel his eyes heating up, but no tears are left to fall. He’s already cried out all the tears he has. 

A small cruel little voice whispers in the back of his mind  _ There’s no use for a deaf paladin. They don’t NEED you.  _ The absence of tears burn even harder, and the little voice gleefully continues poking and prodding reminding Lance that he’s nothing. That he’ll never be anything. Nothing new, but this time Lance doesn’t have his music to drown it out. It gnaws and grows in the back of his brain, and as much as Lance tries to ignore it-- well it’s the only voice he can hear. 

Lance chokes on a sob, trying to dislodge the voice. It doesn’t work. The voice persists, sickly giddy that it has all the attention for once. Lance can’t take it anymore. He can’t, they can’t replace him. They can’t. He’s worth something. 

_ You’re not even fighting! Useless!  _ The voice chortles. Lance can feel the self hate settling into his soul just from listening to obnoxious voice. The voice is right. Lance is useless to his teammates right now....

Unless…

Lance sits up straight, placing his feet on the floor. He tugs at the IV, and it burns as he rips it out of his skin. He hisses clutching his arm. In movies they made it look so easy! Lance gets to his feet swaying dangerously. Lance blindly grabs for the nearest thing as the world tilts. The floor rises up to meet him, and something heavy falls by his side. Darkness overtakes him once again before Lance can even think. 

 

Lance wakes on the floor, in sore pain. Lance raises his head, wincing as it throbs to an imaginary beat. He isn’t sure how long he’s been here but there’s no one around. It could be hours or days. Lance just knows that he has to go. He has to help the others. 

Lance grips the bed pulling himself up. He starts hobbling, using the bed to keep him upright. At the end of the bed he pushes himself forward and crashes into the wall. Lance stills as a wave of nausea washes over him. It wasn’t this bad in bed, maybe he should have stayed there.

No. He can do this. He has to. Lance slides over to the door and presses his hand against the scanner. It opens and Lance stumbles falling as his support is cruelly yanked away from him. Lance braces himself with his arms. They sting with pain but Lance ignores it. They need him. They need  _ him.  _

Lance forces himself to his feet, leaning against the wall. Walking is slow going, and every step has his muscles set alight. Lance keeps his eyes down pushing himself forward. Just one more step. Just one more step. Just one more-

Lance runs into something hard and falls back. His arms flail outward. Before he lands the person grabs his arms and twists them behind his back forcing him to his knees. Sharp claws dig into his skin. Galra. Oh quiznak no. 

The galra cuffs him, claws twisting painfully into Lance’s skin. He can’t help but cry out. Or maybe he doesn’t. He isn’t sure, not with the world spinning like this. He breaths out harshly, his lungs spasming in his chest, his stomach rising like a wave threatening to overwhelm him. 

Lance spins at the last possible second and vomits all over the Galra’s feet. The sudden shift takes the Galra by surprise so his grip is loose, enough to Lance pull away if he was at 100 percent. He isn’t. 

The galra’s lips curl back, sharp fangs manifesting the gentle fluorescent light. Lance is afraid, his pulse thrumming as another wave of nausea makes itself known. Lance gags a little and a look of pure disgust floats over the galra’s face. Lance spins violently at the mercy of sharp claws and glistening fangs. The spin does nothing to help his nausea. 

Lance closes his eyes and he thinks, just for a moment, he can  _ hear  _ but not really hear the galra say something behind him. It doesn’t last long as the Galra yanks him forward. Instinctually his eyes fly open, the world tilting dangerously to one side. Lance stumbles over his feet, tripping and losing his balance. The Galra doesn’t stop but resorts to dragging the paladin behind him. 

Lance closes his eyes again feeling worse than he did before. His skin feels much too hot, sweat beads on his forehead and neck and down the back of the healing suit. It’s uncomfortable but Lance is much too busy fighting the waves of nausea and throbbing pain to notice the drag of his kin against the floor. Too busy to feel what surely will become a harsh floor rash.  

 

Whatever the Galra takes him, it’s a long walk. Even through Lance’s addled mind he can tell that much. He stops several times for a brief time - doors Lance guesses. He kicks a leg out sloppily, doing nothing but annoying his captor. Don’t get him wrong, he tries to escape, but there’s only so much you can do tied up and sick. Lance breaths out resigning himself to just wait to see where they’re going. Then he’ll fight back. Lance doesn’t have to wait long before being thrown to the floor. His chin bounces against the metal floor cutting him. Lance gags fighting down his stomach at the sudden movement. Warmth drips down his chin. At long last the galra’s claws are off him. Blearily Lance looks up, fighting past the bright lights. 

His teammate’s faces take the entirety of the castle screen each with their own comical expression of worry and outrage. Their expressions shift suddenly to aghast. The galra must be talking. The galra presses his foot, complete with dried vomit, harshly into Lance’s back. He arches squirming to get away from the pain, mouth falling open. He doesn’t know if he shrieks or yells or hollers but it hurts and he knows sound escapes him. The galra pulls back his foot and Lance slumps to the ground his breathing heavy. Stars flash behind his eyes, and all Lance wants to do in that moment is falls asleep. 

The galra grabs his hair and yanks Lance up. It hurts, the galra purposefully doing all he can to inflict pain. Lance cracks open a single eye and immediately regrets it. His teammates look deeply in pain. Lance chokes at the vulnerable expression on Keith’s face, anger masking deep concern. He can see it. It’s so obvious. Keith catches his eyes and slowly mouths at him. 

The galra slams the feed off but it’s too late. Lance knows what Keith said and he isn’t worried anymore. They’ll come and save him. In his fevered state of mind the thought takes root with wonderful certainty. 

_ We’re coming.  _

They’re coming. 

Even when the Galra sneers at him and throws a fist in his face Lance can’t stop grinning. Even when the darkness welcomes him like a long lost love, the thought doesn’t leave.

They’re coming. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. See y'all in another 2 months. Or not. Who knows?


End file.
